No Words Here
by Spunky Lily
Summary: Laura grieves for a family member killed in the superstorms, and she and Sam grow closer in the wake of the tragedy. But bigger things begin to occur that could change their lives forever. LauraSam COMPLETE!
1. I Miss You So Bad

**Author's Note:** Huzza! I am creating the first multi-chapter 'The Day After Tomorrow fanfic… okay, Tessa's mine, Laura's mom is kind of mine, but nothing else (so far) is.

**Dedicated to:** SparkingDiamonds; read her stuff! Needless to say, it's better than mine (and more in character ;))

* * *

****

**No Words Here**

**Chapter One: I Miss You So Bad**

* * *

_"I've had my wake up _

__

_Won't you wake up? _

_I keep asking why_

_I can't take it_

_It wasn't fake_

_It happened, you passed by…"_

_–Avril Lavigne_

* * *

_This isn't exactly how I expected to get home…_Laura Chapman's thoughts eased as the blades atop the rescue helicopter began to accelerate, picking up a few snowflakes from the enormous drifts of it that buried New York City. A slight shiver convulsed through her body, causing her to pull the warm wool closer to her skin. She tore her eyes away from outdoors as the plane ascended, looking at the group of scruffy-looking survivors. She, like the others, was completely aware of how close death had brushed by her. In fact, Laura had almost died _twice_.

_Well, this isn't exactly how I expected this trip to go, either, _she added silently. Sam was in the seat to her right, and surprisingly enough, not obsessing about his fear of flight. He actually had a sense of calm about him. But after what he had been through the past week or so, nothing really seemed to scare the crap out of him. Not right now, anyway.

"Where are we going?" Laura inquired, her voice distant and absent as her brown eyes fell onto the window again.

"The U.S. Embassy in Mexico. They have a refugee camp there." Jack replied instantly.

Laura's ease crumbled. _Oh, God… I hope Mom and Tessa are there, _she hoped, her mind focused on her family. She pictured them; her normal, intelligent, supportive mom and her hyperactive, ten-year-old kid sister.

Her eyelids slowly fluttered closed as she rested her eyes. It was then when she really realized how tired she was. Sure, she had gotten some sleep during her stay in the Big Apple, but didn't seem real… it was hard to explain. Only someone really crazy could sleep there comfortably.

Laura felt her hand link to Sam's, but this time, it was on Laura's own accord. She smiled as blissful unconsciousness settled in…

* * *

"We're here… Laura… we're here…"

The black oblivion of sleep dissipated, courtesy of Sam gently waking her with a nudge on her shoulder. She groaned a little and rubbed her eyes. The images around her were faded, then came clearly into focus. Light flooded in through the helicopter's windows, and it was… _warm_. Laura shed her extra clothing freely; the heap of wool blankets and coats sliding to the floor. The copter was hovering over a legion of large, greenhouse-like tents, tiny little people that looked like bugs doing their new little routines. They came closer and closer to the ground, beginning to land on a cleared-out patch of bare ground with somewhat of a target-shaped symbol painted on it. There were hordes of people skirting its perimeter, although Laura couldn't distinguish any of the people as friends or family.

The possibility that they were dead suddenly hit her like a sledgehammer against a watermelon. Laura tried not to think something like that, but her commonly pessimistic mind wavered a bit. She attempted to erase the thought, but it remained, tightening her stomach into a knot.

The rescue vessel neared the earth, and then landed with a slight jolt that fully awakened all of the passengers. One of the crew moved swiftly to open the doors, looking back at the weary group to smile an almost sly grin. He said nothing, but then proceeded to help each survivor out of the chopper one by one. As Laura exited, she put a hand to her forehead, blocking the bright light of the sun that seemed willing to burn her eyes out of their sockets.

Some people pushed through the crowd encircling the landing area, one of these being Doctor Lucy Hall. She grabbed her husband and son, holding them in a very uncomfortable-looking, tight embrace.

"Laura? Laura!"

Another figure—one Laura recognized—emerged from the masses of strangers. A woman with bright green eyes and chestnut, shoulder-length hair threw her arms around Laura, and she hugged back with an even harder force. "Mommy…" Laura whispered, lapsing into the informal. After a few moments, she reluctantly pulled away from her mother and asked, "Where's Tessa?"

Michelle Chapman turned a shade whiter. It was a question she feared her eldest—now her only—daughter would ask…

* * *

It was a horrid day.

Laura shifted in her seat in the front of rows uncomfortably, linking her hands together. The funeral service for Tessa was painful, and her tears hardly ceased falling. She never cried this much before, not since her father had abandoned her mother, Tessa, and herself…

Dead. Tessa was dead. The moody preteen sister who always annoyed her, yet she loved so much was gone. It was unfair. She was ten, for God's sake! Ten! She never deserved death, and there was so much she hadn't done yet… so much she didn't do. She looked to her right, where Sam was seated. Laura gave a simple nod to him, although that couldn't even begin to thank him for his support.

After they all left the tent that served as a chapel, they all walked about a half of a mile to a plot of bare ground that served as a cemetery. Laura shuttered as she looked at the large fields of crosses and mounds of dirt, knowing that this was only a small fraction of the perished.

The burial service was a million times worse than the funeral. The wind was so strong; it had blown the casket's top open slightly, reveling the pallid little girl, her chilled purple lips parted slightly into a smile. Laura wanted to scream and cry and curse God. But she held her walls of reserve up as long as she could, until her sister's casket was lowered into the trench. She shut her eyes and buried her head in Sam's shoulder so as to not she Tessa go so freely.

Even after the service, after even her mother had departed to be alone, she remained, and so did Sam. She couldn't leave; she didn't have it in her heart to go.

"Sam?" she whispered under her breath after they had remained there for a while.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you…" her voice was shaky and barely audible, still choking with tears. "… for everything." And she leaned in to kiss him. It was strong, but brief, then he held her to his chest, resting his chin on the crown of her head.

She didn't protest or say anything as he took her hand and led her from the cemetery. Words weren't needed.


	2. I Fall To Pieces

**Author's Note:** Update, update, update! **YAY**!!! Okay, thankies for all of the positive reviews guys. And please, e-mail me for ideas and suggestions. I urge you to do this!

**Dedication: **To all the reviewers! You guys don't know how much I appreciate the reviews!

**P.S.: **I'm in pre-production of two fics, one of them being a Day After Tomorrow fanfic, which includes Sam and Laura's child O.O Whoa…

* * *

**No Words Here**

**Chapter Two: I Fall To Pieces**

* * *

_"I guess some people are just born with tragedy in their blood." –Gretchen, 'Donnie Darko'_

* * *

Laura's peaceful sleep was disrupted by the morning's light, and a strange urge of human nature that forced her to awaken. She groped blindly for her digital clock, picking it up and looking at it, almost a glare. Seven o'clock. The red numbers glowed sadistically, and Laura sighed. Only two hours of sleep again. How she managed to remain in the conscious world was a complete mystery, but she dragged herself off of her cot and onto the showering area, inside one of the many free showers, where the purposely cold water had completely woken her.

She dressed quickly at met her mother at a pavilion, where she ate a cold breakfast of Lucky Charms and an apple. Laura twirled her spoon in the mixture of milk, cereal bits, and marshmallow shapes, and then glanced up to succumb her mother's weary expression.

"What's today?" Laura questioned. She had lost track of the days; they all seemed to bleed together.

"Tuesday." Tuesday. It had been a week exactly, but it seemed like a lifetime since she had arrived.

The teenager felt a broad spectrum of human emotion right then; anger, fear… she evidently wanted to say something, but it felt horribly inappropriate to ask. She wanted to know, engage in a conversation, not the mandatory social gesture she was doing right now.

"How did it happen?" Laura asked suddenly, as if she was talking to a teacher and accidentally said a swear or something along those lines. Michelle stared at her daughter with eyes heavy with shame. "O-oh… I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," she interrupted softly. "You—you do deserve to know," Michelle began, then released a heavy sigh.

"We were with the last band of people evacuating out of Washington D.C. But there was a problem with the vehicle we were using. We hadn't used antifreeze in the fuel, and it was starting to freeze as we set out for Mexico. By the time we had reached southern Virginia, it had frozen solid. The driver had lost control, and crashed into a tree. He died instantly, but Tessa, a girl named Marnee and her father Aubrey, and I survived the crash. But, nevertheless, we were stuck in there, and it seemed no one would rescue us. We were trapped in there for three days, with no food or water or heat. It was awful…" Michelle continued, with a more reluctant tone, "… Marnee… she died first, in her father's arms… Aubrey didn't have the will to live after that… I—I tried to keep her warm… I held Tessa, covered her up… but…" the tears gleamed in her eyes, and Laura squeezed her hand supportively.

"It'll be alright, mom, I promise. It'll get better." Laura vowed.

* * *

The day passed slowly, until a mysterious man arrived at her family's housing tent. He was around her mother's age, tall with a trace of a tan on his skin. He had brown hair and eyes, intriguing for such neutral colors. She didn't recognize him at first, until he gave her a viciously tight hug. She immediately pulled away from him.

"Dad." She sneered darkly.

"That's my name." He said with a smile, oblivious to the fact that looked like she was going to explode.

Laura didn't understand why she was so angry with him, though. Wasn't this what she'd dreamed about? That Daddy would come back? "Do you think you can come back to Mom and me and get instantly loved?" Scorn laced her voice as she snapped at him accusingly. "Think again."

"But I'm your father…" he replied softly, as if that was going to explain everything.

"No you're not!" Laura snarled. "Just because half of my chromosomes are yours does not make you a father. I don't have a father. I would never give you the credit or acknowledge you as my father. You don't deserve it. You left her. You left me. You left Tessa. And no words can forgive you for all the heartbreak you've caused, 'cause if you think your homecoming to grieve for Tessa is going to forgive it, you're dead wrong." She then stormed out of the tent, her biological father not daring to stop her.

Fists clenched as an aftereffect from her little 'outburst', Laura went to the only place were she could talk to someone about this. She pulled up the sheet like door to the large tent where the Halls' were living. "Sam!" she called to receive his full attention.

"Laura," he rose from his cot, where he'd been reading a book, but saw the gaze in her eyes that could throw knives. "What's wrong?"

At that moment, all she wanted to do was completely spill her heart out, telling him everything. But she didn't, improvising with, "My Dad." Sam had a clear look of confusion on this facial features. "He—he's back. He left me and Tessa and Mom when I was seven… but he's back…" she added for clarity, her voice a mere choke, and barely understandable.

Sam interlocked his fingers with hers, "Come with me."

* * *

He had led her to a standard issue truck his father had earned from the government, and drove it for ten or fifteen miles, his grip on the steering wheel tightened so hard, his knuckles turned as pallid as snow.

"Where are we going?" she asked for the thousandth time.

"You'll see," Sam answered, his grip loosening drastically. "Close your eyes." She obeyed, not seeing any other reason not to.

After a while, he told her to open her eyes again. The vehicle finally pulled up to a rather secluded area, to what appeared to be the edge of a cliff. They leaped out of the truck simultaneously, and Laura gasped.

They were facing a drop-off to a cove-shaped area, filled with unrealistically blue water. It was so perfectly blue; it looked like it had been retouched for a tourist brochure. Remnants of buildings and streetlamps jutted from the water, and something finally dawned on Laura.

"A tidal wave hit here, too. But this one was a hell of a lot bigger. It went inland from the ocean to this point here, which needless to say, is a pretty long way." Sam informed her.

"It's beautiful, though. Sad, but beautiful…"

"Kind of like you." He pointed out, smiling slyly.

She gave him a playful punch and laughed happily. And for the first time since her father arrived, she felt wonderful.

* * *

**Next Chapter:** The shit hits the fan O.O


	3. The Ties That Bind

**

* * *

Author's Note: **Yes, the Phoenix knows that this a big gap between updates, but I had family over for the past week and haven't found time to write. I hope this is enough to satisfy.

I'm still planning my next big DAT fanfic, and another that's a crossover with Spider-Man -laughs menacingly-

Oh, and for those who are also reading Shells, too -cough- SparkingDiamond -cough- the update is comin' for that, too.

And God, I've been neglecting Brian and J.D., so I'm taking a little break from Sam/Laura, and giving J.D. some trauma (that's coming in the next chapter), and a crush for Brian ;)

* * *

**No Words Here**

**Chapter Three: The Ties That Bind**

* * *

_"This is incredible_

_Starving, insatiable_

_Yes, this is love for the first time…"_

_—Dashboard Confessional_

* * *

"How bad is the situation?"

"Pretty damn bad, all things considered."

"The casualties? How many casualties?"

Vice President—sorry, President Becker questioned a rather serious-looking General Pierce, looking over papers and files splattered all across the table inside one of the Top-Secret military tents at the U.S. Embassy.

"Sir, honestly we have no clue," General Pierce answered, clearly a lie. "It is defiantly millions… perhaps even…"

"What? _What?_"

"Sir, there are close to seven billion people on the planet. We may have lost nearly one and three quarters of a billion people." General Pierce glanced down. "And, for the odds of surviving above the upper half of the country…" he trailed off. "There are eight million people in New York City, and only about five hundred to a thousand came out alive."

President Becker sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing them with a piece of blue cloth. "What is the population of the refugee camp?"

"5,892,956… that's the exact number, but it _is_ growing, sir. We have another problem too, Mr. President."

"Yes, General?"

"Every day," Pierce began, "there are a growing amount orphans arriving there… no allegeable legal guardians… so… we don't know _what _to do, Mr. President. We keep them in 'orphanages', sir. But…" he was sounding less confident by the second. "Sir, what do we do?"

* * *

A low roar enveloped Brian as he sat in a half-fetal position on his chair in the dining hall. The place had ten large rows of what looked like giant picnic tables. One knee was bent, crammed against his body, and the other leg was swaying freely. He hadn't come here to quench a thirst of satisfy a hunger; just to escape from his family for a second or two.

Over the past week or so, he'd been to more funerals than he could count, which was saying something. Tessa's, his grandparents', two cousins', an aunt's, and his good friend from school, Mark. All of them. Dead. Gone forever.

"Um… excuse me, is this seat taken?" a young woman, around his age, asked, gesturing to the empty space next to where he was seated.

"No, please, uh… sit…" he lapsed into nervousness. She wasn't a pretty girl. Nope—she was _gorgeous_. She had bright red hair falling to her shoulders, curling a bit at the ends. Freckles graced a friendly face, as did bright blue eyes and a drop-dead-toothpaste-commercial smile. She had a small blue gingham sling that held a tiny young baby, only about a month or so old. The baby, too, had ginger locks and azure opticals and was squirming a bit in the girl's sling-like thing. Feeling awkward, Brian asked. "Is the baby… ?"

"Mine? No," she answered, sitting down, laughing a little. "He's my brother, aren't you Brennan? Say 'hi'," she commanded, but when that failed, she waved his chubby little arm for him. "My name's Gwen, by the way, and you are?" Gwen held out a hand.

"Brian… uh, B—Brian Parks…" he answered with a bit of stutter of embarrassment, taking the hand and shaking it.

"You're alone." Gwen observed, tilting her head to the side.

"Yeah," Brian began as Brennan began to gurgle, creating spit bubbles on his lip. "That's why I came here… I just didn't want to be by my family right now…"

"You're lucky," she muttered, staring at the bare concrete ground. "You _have_ a family…"

"What do you mean?"

Her eyes looked as if they were glazed, as the pair of identical sky blue irises seemed to stare right into his soul. "Brennan and me…" Gwen whispered, her once confident voice toned down to being barely audible. "Six kids… six kids were in my family, and Brennan are the only ones left…" tears welled up in her eyes, and the sound Brian loathed most in the world commenced. Muffled sounds escaped her mouth, but she quickly tried to fight the tears.

Suddenly, all of the funerals he'd been to didn't matter. His own self-deprecation drowned in sympathy. He'd just met Gwen, but Brian comforted her as if they'd known each other for a million years. He put a hand on her shoulder for support, and she turned her head, smiling through all of those tears.

* * *

"What the hell are you doing _here_?" Michelle Chapman roared into her ex-husband's face. "What were you _thinking_, Tobey? This girl hasn't seen you in ten years! _Ten years_!" she repeated for clarity. "Does she even know?"

Tobey shook his head shamefully, trying to avoid Michelle's eyes as they stood outside of the residential tent. "No… no, she doesn't…" he replied finally, staring at the horizon, as if something was there. After what seemed like forever, he added, "Do you want me to leave?"

"Honestly? Yeah. I do. For the sake of both of our sanities." She muttered, looking at Tobey with an eagle-eyed glare. Michelle sighed before she continued, "You have other places to go, Tobias." It was the first time since their wedding day that she had called him 'Tobias', and nobody called him that. His mother didn't even dare. "Other places… where you're actually wanted."

She turned his face toward his. "And it's not here."


	4. Play Crack The Sky

**Author's Note: **Okay guys, I'm giving you peoples the biggest, most climactic update I have every done. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating, but I've worked for this update, and it has a lot in it; drama, romance (Laura/Sam _and _Gwen/Brian, too), loads of words :), and most importantly, a cliffhanger. Sort of.

**To Clintronic Waldrop:** Thank you very much for your sympathy. But there's one thing I want to clarify: your writing did actually sort-of inspire 'Close Your Eyes'… but I was trying to fit that story somewhere within the confides of 'No Words Here'. But, actually, writing that did make me feel better, as did your story. But, once again, thank you.

* * *

**No Words Here **

**Chapter 4: Play Crack the Sky**

_"Hope_

_Dangles on a string_

_Like slow spinning redemption…"_

_—Dashboard Confessional_

* * *

"Sam?"

Laura's legs dangled from the side of the bench, a strong breeze rippling the fields of knee-length, golden grass before the pair. A large section of the dead grasses were being hand-chopped by some of the American refugees, each of the men donning a rather threatening scythe. Others were planting tall wooden poles into the warm earth, preparing to set up another tent. The skies were a brilliant azure, an infinite ceiling hanging over the couple's heads. Clouds delicately prodded at the western horizon, though no one took any mind to the minor gloom slightly tainting the beautiful scenery.

They had gotten here a few minutes previously; courtesy of the pickup truck they had borrowed. Laura and Sam had carefully avoided the busier parts of the encampment today, in case that he was there.

The seventeen-year-old girl gently brushed her limbs against the boy sitting next to her, Laura's face turning to Sam's, her eyes level with his. "I never thought I could be this happy, after what happened," Laura told him. "And what's been happening. But," a curve formed in her lips, dimples denting the lower part of her cheeks. "When I'm with you… I love you… I love the way you put others before yourself, and I love the way you make me feel… you make me feel like… like I'm wonderful…"

"I—I love you, too, Laura," Sam moved closer to her, closing in the remaining inches between them, the lips locking. He wished now he could say something that would sum up to tell her how much he really cared about Laura, but he knew that those three little words had told her enough.

They each reluctantly pulled away, a brilliant sheen was in each of their eyes that hadn't been there before.

* * *

_Aaron stared about in sheer terror. The dark formless wall of water that he knew was an enemy had begun closing in around him and he found himself slowly backing up into a thin alleyway. Trying to run his way out of it would be useless and now Aaron knew he was utterly trapped. His fingers finally met the wall behind him and he pressed himself up against it, wishing that the ground would just swallow him up right there. Just as one of the more prominent fingers of water rushed into the alley, Aaron threw his arms up in front of his face and screamed._

"Aaron!"

J.D. jolted up from his cot, beads of sweat dripping down his temple. The next thing he realized was the sharp pain erupting from his leg. His hands automatically went for the area, but as soon as his fingertips touched the leg, the pain was gone, only a tingle of the phantom pain remnant.

"J.D., are you alright?" his mother sounded worried, her arm outstretching to his shoulder from her cot.

"It's just…" he cut himself off.

"Aaron," she finished for him. "I know… but I think they'll find him. I know they will."

J.D. gave a nod of understanding as they both settled into their beds once more. He pulled the blankets over his head, trying to curl into a comfortable position. But nothing comforted him as his mother's echoic words began to sound less convincing, and the image of his brother's mangled body still fresh in his mind.

His mother watched over him until he fell in the blessed oblivion of sleep, and she, too slowly felt tired.

"Excuse me, Miss…"

She jumped nearly a foot in the air from surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry. You startled me." She told the official.

"Miss, you are Rachel Summers, yes?"

She nodded.

"We may have found the location of your son."

* * *

"Okay, so I'll meet you after lunch, Brian. Does the pavilion by the Embassy building sound good to you?" Gwen asked timidly, her eyes locked on his, although Brennan was still squirming in his little sling.

"Uh… sure." It was only then, when his hand let go of Gwen's, that Brian realized that he was actually holding it. They each went their separate ways, simultaneously looking back at each other. At one such time, Brian ran—literally—right into someone.

"Uh—sorry." He mumbled.

"Brian is a true mack daddy. Pimp, Brian, pimp." He heard a familiar, playful taunt. It was Sam. "Who's the lucky lady?" Sam added, squinting and flattening his hand above his eyebrows, creating a shadow to shield his eyes, looking for her.

"Her name's Gwen Rossum," Brian answered. "She's pretty and nice… and very pretty… and scary, because usually pretty girls either don't care about me, or they hate me. And she… she's amazing."

The two best friends began to walk alongside each other. "So, when do I get to meet this mystery girl Gwen, who apparently is perfect and happens to be infatuated with dear ole Brian?"

"Soon… I guess…" he answered, trying to veil the uncertainty.

"Oh, really," Sam grinned.

* * *

The single cloud on the edge of the horizon turned a purple color as the red-orange sun dipped beneath it. As the last of the sun's light disappeared, the shadows of the night replacing the clear blue skies, the cloud grew, joined by larger, more ominous clouds. The temperature plunged as the night waned on, and soon the sky was completely overcast. Snowflakes glittered as they twirled to the ground, melting as soon as they touched the grasses. Soon, the snow fell in heavier amounts, and the storm gathered strength.

A single lone flake of ice fell above the watery graves of the once proud town of Chiciana, Mexico, which had been swallowed by the wave and was located near the U.S. Embassy.

A building near the drop-off, which used to be a home, was one of the few that weren't completely flooded. It was buried in a few feet of quickly freezing mud, which had toppled it a day or so before the wave even came.

But a hand, bloody and beaten, pushed its way through the cold wreckage, finally surfacing…

* * *

**Next Chapter:** ACTION! Action, action, action! And Laura/Sam, too :)

**P.S.: **My goal is to have the next update by the Fourth of July. YAY!


	5. Say Anything

**Author's Note:** Okay guys, here we go, the climax chapter. The big action-y chapter. The one with suspense, romance, and big, BIG cliffhanger.

And oh, if you thought the snow was bad, you just wait… -insane, scary laughter is heard in the background-

* * *

**No Words Here**

**Chapter Five: Say Anything**

* * *

_"Change one thing, change everything…" –Tagline for 'The Butterfly Effect'_

* * *

Laura and Sam once again found themselves at what the pair had now dubbed, 'the spot', despite all of the panic caused by the sudden arrival of snow. Ice laced the water closest to the drop-off, the water lapping at its edges, breaking off a little bit at a time.

The two lovers were oblivious to this action, as they laid in the narrow back seat of the truck on top of one other, kissing. Sam's button-down shirt draped off of the side of the seat, as was Laura's. The truck wasn't on, but they didn't have to worry about getting cold. They had enough body heat to warm a third-world country, which now was saying something.

Laura abruptly halted the make out session, raising her head to the window. "Sam, did you hear something?" she slid off of his half-naked body as he, too looked outside. Snow was falling gently, and all seemed calm and quiet… until…

"Help! Help!"

Sam and Laura quickly pulled on their clothes once more, both adding heavy jackets to their attire and departed from the warmth of the truck.

Snow crunched beneath their feet as they trotted to the source of the sound; the cliff.

"Where are you?" Sam shouted, cupping his hands along the edges of his mouth.

"Help me!" the heavily accented voice called.

The couple glanced down at the icy waters within one second of each other. A pale woman, the bright crimson of her blood all over contrasting with the whiteness of her skin. Snow clung to her eyebrows and long, dark hair. She appeared to be on the roof of a very small home.

"We're coming down to help you!" he yelled. "Just hang on!"

The woman nodded in understanding, a grateful look about her.

"Okay Laura… see those rocks down there?" he pointed to a zigzagged horizontal row of flint jutting like spikes from the drop-off. She nodded. "I think we can climb down those." He walked over to the first rock rising out, stepping onto it. "I'll go down first. Don't go down if something goes wrong." Sam's voice became gentler. "I couldn't risk you getting hurt… promise." Laura nodded again.

"Be careful," she added, though it needn't be said.

The first three steps down went without any disturbance, but the fourth large chunk of rock had cracked, a small piece breaking off and falling into the ocean, penetrating the ice. "I'm alright!" Sam announced, crawling down the rest with a bit of a Spider-Man esque (tehehe… I couldn't help it ). He leaped off of the last stepping-stone-like rock gently, shifting his weight cautiously on the thin ice. He edged over carefully toward the home, going ever closer…

The ice groaned, cracks forming around Sam's sneakers, the proceeded to open up, swallowing Sam in its wake.

"Sam!" Laura shrieked. She attempted to think, but nothing was registering with her in that instant. Then, she did the only thing she could think of. She jumped.

Laura completely ignored the pain that seared through her feet up to her knees as she landed, or that the coat of frozen water was failing to hold her up, that fissures were forming as she stood, then ran to the patch of open water. She dove, with her arms out protecting her head, into the deathly cold water. Laura gasped her last breath of air before her struck the water. The pain was immense. She could feel her arms being crushed by the power of the freezing cold liquid surrounding her, but that didn't stop Laura. She could see a half-conscious Sam a few feet away, and grabbed hold of him.

Laura began to kick her legs to the surface, to make it to the top of the water.  
  
She swam as hard as she could, feeling debris strike her as she did. Laura kept going though; the debris didn't stop her. She and Sam were running out of time because they needed air. She felt the surface was near because she could see a bright light. She swam harder and faster than she had ever done before. Laura and Sam broke the surface a few moments later. That had to have been the longest time of their lives. They both gasped for air as they struggled on the surface.

Sam grasped the slippery surface of the ice, pulling Laura up with him. The woman and her home had disappeared from sight, a large patch of open water where her home was. He felt defeated as he looked upon the horrid sight, but realized he and Laura needed to get home, via the truck. They were both shivering and wet, and quite likely hypothermic.

A few minutes later, they were back in the truck, but in no better condition than when they were on the ice.

"L-L-Laura," Sam stammered through his shivers as he drove. "I-I need to tell you something…"

"W-What is it?"

"I—I didn't know if I was going to survive back there… I want you to know… I love you, and I couldn't stand _not_ doing this," the truck halted, and he took her outside, bending on one knee. "Laura Chapman," he began, devoid of any stutters or inconfidence, and a smile upon his weary features. "Will you marry me?"

* * *

Gwen smiled as she looked upon the refugee encampment, sitting on a makeshift bench where a field of wheat was now being harvested, thanks to the sudden arrival of snow. She pulled her knit sweater closer to her skin as her scarf's entrails sailed in the air like a flag. Things were looking up.

But something was wrong.

A piercing scream filled her ears, not from a human mouth, but from an object falling from the sky a few miles away. It looked no bigger than a pebble, from so far away, but she knew better than to believe her eye.

It hit water, this she knew, because thousands upon thousands of gallons of water sailed into the air, and anything within an eight of a mile radius was parboiled in an instant. She also knew a good chunk of the refugee camp was in that area.

"Oh my God, all those people…" was all Gwen could say before she was knocked off her feet by the first shockwave. As the second sped towards her, the far less minor one toppled buildings and trees and anything that stood in its way, she braced herself to do something really stupid. As the shockwave hit, she tried to hold onto something, but she even lost grip on her own consciousness. Gwen saw a tree fly by and she latched onto it, holding on for dear life.

That was the last thing she remembered. The next thing she recalled was lying on the cold, wet earth. Gwen cried out for help, but her voice failed her. She sat up and looked around, feeling no pain. She didn't even know whether she was alive or dead. But she did when she looked to her chest. A two by four had been driven through her lungs, and she laid back as the throbbing pain began to arrive. A shudder went throughout her body, down her very fingertips, and by the time it was over, Gwen Rossum had died.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I know, I know, it's rotten of me to kill Brian's lady-friend and leave you hanging on the fate of J.D., Laura, Sam, Jack, Lucy, Michelle, Brennan, and so many others. That was the hardest thing I've ever written, and I'm really sorry. Seriously. I'll now accept death threats in my reviews xP


	6. Slip and Fall

**Author's Note:** As you may have noticed, on the last chapter I changed the rating to PG-13, but this chapter's more of a PG-13½. It contains graphic images, and a character death. And no, it's not an OC.

**This Chapter:** The characters face the aftermath of the 'new' disaster, some with serious to fatal injuries.

**P.S.:** Clintronic Waldrop, who said it was a huge meteorite? –Laughs evilly-

* * *

**No Words Here**

**Chapter Six: Slip and Fall**

_"I find it kind of funny_

_I find it kind of sad_

_The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had…"_

_—Gary Jules_

* * *

Lucy Hall had almost no idea what was happening. One minute, she was in the infirmary tent, waiting for her son to return from whatever he was doing and her husband to return from NOAA, and the next, she was thrown from where she stood, dashed against the cloth wall that collapsed over her. She felt a shudder run through her body: a clear, distinctive, yet horrifying sound of a bone snapping. As her already slightly frail body slammed against the half-frozen earth, Lucy tasted blood on the back of her tongue, and her throat began to constrict. It was the awful feeling that invaded her body when Lucy knew that the tears were coming. She didn't just pass out, either. The pain was searing throughout her entire body, and the absence of sight was beginning.

She didn't dare move, even if she could. The only thing she could do was lie and wait.

Lucy fought to keep herself awake, although the epicenter of pain, where the bone had shattered, her left leg, was helping to keep her in the conscious world.

After a half an hour, she heard something out of the deafening silence. "Hello, is anyone in there?" someone shouted.

"Help!" Lucy pleaded hoarsely, a horrible feeling coming over her, worse than all the pain. Peter… Sam… Jack… what if? Oh God, they can't be…

She could hear footsteps against the earth, someone coming closer. And closer. Suddenly, the weight of a part of the tent lifted from her. "Lucy?" She recognized the voice immediately, but what remained of her distorted vision was adjusting the light she had very sparse of.

"Jason?" she called out, her throat throbbing as she spoke.

Although Lucy couldn't see, Jason nodded, attempting at lifting her from what remained of the infirmary. "Yes, it's me… Lucy, where does it hurt?" Jason asked, deciding now was the time to lapse into the serious; setting her down on the grass.

Lucy didn't answer. "Where's Jack?"

"Mrs. Hall—"

"Where is he?" she almost pleaded now, her eyes acquiring a gleam from her tears. The horrible feeling of cries and the fear swallowing the pit of her stomach.

Jason, too, was crying, but not aware of it. Lucy attempted to look deeper into his facial expression, trying to read what she already in her deepest fears and horrors already knew. She felt like she was about to throw up.

"I—Lucy, I'm so sorry…" he whispered under his breath.

* * *

When Sam first awakened, he'd gotten the feeling that he had been hit with a sledgehammer. A very large sledgehammer. His eyes fluttered open, and even that was a painful task. His shirt and pants were sticky and wet with blood, and his naturally tousled hair was matted with the fresh red liquid. He couldn't even think, only just barely perceive the environment surrounding him. One of Sam's arms was clearly broken, and the other had sharp, and rather large splinters lodged in his skin, through his tattered shirt. He was sitting in a pool of his own blood and pain.

Sam cried out in pain, the first sound he could make out. A primitive sound, and rather loud. This was enough to just barely clear his head of the agonizing ache running throughout his entire body. _Laura._

His thoughts immediately sped to his girlfriend, the girl he loved so dearly. The girl who, if he could remember the answer, could be his fiancé. _She didn't answer, though. There was no time before… it happened._ He contemplated.

Where was she? Where was his Laura?

Despite the immense hurting sensation racing in his body as he did this, he tried to sit up to get a better view. Sam blinked as the sunlight settled in his blue eyes, holding up his wood-punctured arm against the sun, and then quickly letting it fall. "Laura!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, or at least as much as he could manage.

He waited for about five seconds, then another shout came. "Sam!" his heart did a few back flips as he turned to the sound of his lover. But he didn't like what he saw.

As much as Sam loved seeing Laura at this very moment, he didn't like seeing her in a position such as this. His wounds looked like band-aid boo-boos compared to Laura's injuries.

Her left shoulder had been slammed into the ground, burying it a few inches deep in cold mud, and her pale, seemingly emaciated legs merged into the ground as well. Other than what seemed like a million scratches, scrapes, and bruises coating her body, she received a huge gash across her abdomen, and probably several broken bones. Blood dripped from her body, letting the earth run red with miniature rivers of her blood. Laura was only a few yards away, but the distance seemed like miles. "And the answer is yes." She said quietly, just so he could hear, and he smiled through the tears of pain and slight grief.

"Sam," Laura sighed, her voice becoming less audible. "If we die…"

"We won't die." He interjected, his voice devoid of any confidence.

"… I love you." She continued as if she didn't hear Sam, but smiled. For him. But then, her expression turned stunned.

"Sam… I can't feel my legs."

* * *

**Next Chapter:** J.D. and his family, north of New Mexico, are reunited with Aaron, oblivious to what happened; Brian and Brennan discover Gwen's fate; Lucy tries to save what remains of her family… … and, well, I can't tell you _everything_!


	7. Pools of Sorrow, Waves of Joy

**

* * *

Author's Note:** Ah! I've been at camp for a while, so here's the long-awaited update!

* * *

**No Words Here**

**Chapter Seven: Pools of Sorrow, Waves of Joy**

_"If he dies, all that is life to me will die with him."_

_—Ivy Walker, 'The Village'_

_

* * *

_

_"Tessa, get off of the phone! **NOW**!"_

_Laura's yelling echoed throughout the Victorian home that was a Chapman heirloom. Or rather, a Vreeland heirloom, her mother's side. Dusty plaster sprinkled from the ceiling of the attic, but it rarely bothered Laura. It happened often from living up here._

_"Do you understand the meaning of no?" Laura questioned venomously._

_"Jesus, Laura," Tessa replied, one leg resting on the wooden incline of the house, near her bed. The ten-year-old often managed to exceed her years with her attitude. People frequently guessed she to be twelve or even thirteen, but not the immature, preteen age of ten. "Will you shut up? I'm talking to Kyra."_

_"I don't care if you're talking to Tobey Maguire!" Laura snapped. "Phone! Now!"_

_"Jeez," Tessa glared, speaking into the phone. "My psycho sister needs to use the phone," the girl informed Kyra on the other line. "Talk to you later. Buh-bye!" there were long pauses in-between the sentences, then she proceeded to hang up. "I'm telling Mom… why do you need to use the phone anyway?" she grinned suddenly. "It's Sam, right?" Tessa emphasized the use of 'Sam'._

_"No, it's not." Laura lied. She was God-awful at lying._

_"Yeah it is."_

_The elder sister became deflated. "Yes," she agreed reluctantly._

_"C'mon Lor," Tessa began, using Laura's childhood nickname of 'Lor'. As an infant, Tessa wasn't great of pronouncing, so hence 'Lor' instead of 'Laura'. "When are you going to tell him?"_

_"Not now," Laura answered immediately, staring at her suitcase still propped open, otherwise ready to go to New York City._

_The door downstairs was knocked upon. "I'll get it," the naturally sickeningly pale ten-year-old announced dully, flying down the stairs. "Probably the UPS guy." She muttered._

_Moments later, Laura's ears picked up the sound of a screech. Tessa didn't screech, much less for the UPS delivery boy. Oddly, the next sound she perceived was four feet ascending the narrow stairwell._

_Sam was standing with Tessa. Holy crap. Was she dreaming? Sam Hall? In her room?_

_Yes, yes… the study secession…_

_"So, Sam, guess I should leave you two **alone**." Tessa grinned, winking quickly at Laura, as if the pair were commencing to make out. Sam smiled slyly. Being an only child, he appreciated the novelty of Tessa._

_"Tess, don't forget to check your blood sugar before you go soccer practice!" Laura called after her in a motherly way. Tessa had a much more mild version of juvenile diabetes than most of the kids who had it. The girl rolled her eyes in response, mouthing 'Good luck'._

_This was one of the times Tessa acted like a thirteen-year-old rather than a little girl a decade old. Did all of those tests and blood sugar checks make her mature into some philosophical, wise-beyond-her-years preteen?_

Laura knew she had awakened when the pain and faded images began to arrive and the significant memories surrounding her sister and warmth had left. She wanted to sob, but the strength had completely left her body. For a moment, she prayed for death to come, but interrupted her own prayer. She felt guilty for two reasons. One, she didn't want to die. She didn't want to leave him; to leave and not even really begin. Two, Laura wondered if God would listen to girl-who-occasionally-prays-only-when-she-wants-something. Maybe He would, but still…

She used the loose, aching muscles attached to her neck to search for Sam. He was still sleeping, and from what it looked, night was about to begin. It probably had only been hours, but it had seemed like years since she had awakened. She wanted Sam closer to her. She wanted Tessa back. She wanted Mommy.

Laura would have wiped away the single tear that fell to the scorched, dead ground, but her bloody arms hadn't any motivation. Instead, she mouthed two words.

"Help me…"

* * *

"I assume you are Mrs. … ?"

"_Ms._," J.D.'s mother corrected as if it was nothing. "Rachel Summers."

"Oh," the officer responded quietly, a bit of red developing on his rounded cheeks. "Well, follow me." He commanded lightly.

J.D. and his mother had arrived at this place by helicopter a few minutes before. It was an expansive military base near Brownsville, Texas, still intact despite the epic disasters' occurrences. The pair were currently in the east wing, where most of the rescued with no families remnant from the storms or were from Canada or Alaska were housed. "He's extremely lucky, your boy is," the officer with a very professional-looking tag stating, 'Sean Mackin', continued. "They found him with a few others in a vegetable packing facility. The people with him rescued him from an alley… Aaron survived that tidal wave…" Sean smiled a deathly frightening smile that thankfully and mercifully faded away. "Of all of those thousands of millions people engulfed by the wave, a little boy survives it all." There was a long, uncomfortable silence among J.D. and his mother until Sean announced, "We're here." He opened the door, and Rachel ran into the small housing room, immediately bursting into hysterical sobs when her eyes fell onto her youngest son.

"Aaron!" she called out, wrapping her arms around him as he jumped into them. Mother and child just stood there for a few long, blissful moments until Aaron let go, sliding down Rachel's body.

Not surprisingly, he and J.D. embraced as well. And for a few longer, even more blissful moments, nothing was wrong in the world. They were oblivious to all of the chaos on the face of the Earth. None of that mattered. Words weren't needed to explain the happiness and relief.

But suddenly, the Summers family heard these words coming from Sean outside.

"What do you mean? The International Space Station went down? Where did it land?" there was a long, deafening pause from the other line.

"Mexico… near the United States Embassy… where all of the refugees are."

"Oh, God… how many have you found alive? Out of that... impact..."

"Five so far. Jason Evans, Janet Tokada, Michelle Chapman, Tom Gomez, and Lucy Hall. But we've only searched the NOAA building and the hospital."

"Mom," J.D. began, tears stinging his eyes. "… Oh my God, all those people…"

* * *

"What do you mean, you can't go out that far?" Doctor Lucy Hall was usually a reserved, calm, reasonable person in the face of disaster. She'd been trained to do that. But in this situation, all of those years at Medical School slipped down the drain. "My _son_… my only family and my only child, is out there, and you're not going to _do_ anything about it?" she demanded, allowing the soldier to shrink in his uniform as he tried to calm her down. A few government officials and a shaken NOAA team, minus one, and Michelle Chapman were down here in the basement of the U.S. Embassy. This place used to be a fallout shelter, so they agreed it would be the best place to be for now.

"And my daughter is there with him! They could be _dying_!" Michelle emphasized bitterly. "You're the government, damnit!" She was crying, as was Lucy.

"I'm sorry, I truly am, and I realize what you're going through," _No, you don't, _Lucy almost said, but attempted to hold her tongue behind her teeth. "But you must keep calm, all of you." The soldier had a ring of authority in his voice.

Janet put a hand on Lucy's shoulder, and she gave a nod of appreciation. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to lose another part of my family today." She said shakily through her tears.

"Mrs. Hall—"

She rose from the cold concrete floor. "I'm not going to sit back and let my son and Laura die out there."

"They're probably already dead!" the soldier, named Richard Baldwin, shouted at the top of his lungs. "And you're going to commit suicide by going out there!"

"Either way, I'll be with my family." Lucy hissed pointedly, and with the arm that wasn't in a sling, she raised her middle finger in the air, gesturing it at Richard as she walked up the stairs to the surface, no one daring to stop her.

* * *

_Is this death? There's a white light and everything…_

These thoughts crossed Sam's mind as he awakened, his vision blurry. Everything was bumpy. "Sam? Sam? Oh, God… thank God you're awake…"

"Dad?"


	8. The Odds Against Tomorrow

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the awesome, helpful reviews, but sadly I'm noticing a certain lack of them :( Oh well. This story's turning out to be a misery parade, but I hope to give you guys the hopeful, close-to-happy ending we all need. 

Sorry for the absence again. My computer needed to be fixed. And my mom got in a car accident, so I've been at the hospital constantly. Her leg's broken.

Two chapters left (after this one) until The End…

* * *

**No Words Here**

**Chapter Eight: The Odds Against Tomorrow**

_"I lay dying_

_And I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal_

_I'm dying, praying, bleeding, and screaming_

_Am I too lost to be saved_

_Am I too lost?_

_My God, my tourniquet_

_Return to me Salvation…"_

_—Evanescence_

* * *

Jack Hall was in a position that he never could have ever even conceived of being in. He was sitting, crouched over his nearly comatose son, in the back of a brutally beaten pickup truck, heading to what remained of an American refugee camp to get help. Sam mumbled incoherently under his breath as Jack observed his bloody son with worry in his heart and mind. Two other survivors, also with a splay of red on their outfits, were in the back with them, but they were conscious, and probably would survive. In the driver's seat was a man Jack recognized, a man who was in the library in New York named Luther. From Luther's looks, you couldn't tell if he even had driven before, but luckily he had, and the weary five stayed silent.

Three understandable words sounded from behind Sam's lips. "Dad? Where's Laura?"

"She's okay, Sam, she'll be alright," Jack whispered, although those words could be lies. But his son believed. He tried to believe.

Sam blinked slowly, coming to his senses even more so. "You didn't answer me," he mumbled. "Where is she?"

"She's at what's left of the U.S. Embassy. She was hurt…" Jack fumbled on his words. "… Badly… they took her first, then I came back for you…"

It took a minute for this to register with the seventeen-year-old's currently poorly functioning brain. "What about Mom?" Sam's astonishingly blue eyes were filled with horror and a heart shattering sadness.

"I—I don't know…"

* * *

Lucy fled the safety of what remained of the U.S. Embassy, wearisome tears being blinked away from her eyes. Here, outside, there was a heavy, painful reminder of how horrid the situation had become. It was beyond any disaster that she knew or understood; she could only observe.

Pillars of black smoke met the cold, overcast sky above the hellish scenery. Fires burned everywhere, and not a thing was standing. The ground was rippled and scorched, and in the further, Lucy could see that soil where the fingers of the blast had touched was practically reduced to a deep, singed hole. It was hard to believe—to hope—that anyone was left alive. For a moment, she felt like the only person on earth, until her acute sense of hearing picked up the low roar of a vehicle. Lucy swiveled around, seeing the truck deliver a bittersweetly welcomed sight.

Brian was in the back of a small pickup truck with a hefty amount of survivors; dazed, bleeding and confused as they stared at the devastation around them, trying to make something of it. Another person, another member of the 'library gang', a girl named Elsa sat upright, holding an infant in her arms, remarkably unharmed, then handed the child over to another as she spotted Dr. Hall. Then, Lucy saw whom Brian was near to.

Laura. Lucy could barely distinguish her; she was covered in blood and multiple injuries, and Dr. Hall's medical instincts kicked in. She ran faster than she ever had her life, which was saying something, as in high school, Lucy held the school's highest track record to this very day. "She needs help, Dr. Hall," Brian stated the obvious as Lucy examined the pale, unconscious Laura. Resting her middle and pointer fingers on her neck, where the two major arteries lay under Laura's skin, Lucy felt a pulse. It was slow, but a signal that she was still alive.

"Will she be alright?" Elsa questioned anxiously.

_I hope so,_ Lucy answered mentally. She put her ear next to Laura's mouth, feeling a labored breathing. "We need to get her inside, _now_." Suddenly, Lucy's attention fixated upon her son. Where was Sam? "Sam… where is he?"

"Don't worry, Jack's with him." Brian answered as he, Elsa, and Lucy gently lifted Laura with extreme care.

"_Jack_?" Lucy repeated. "J-Jack's…" she gulped. "… _alive_?"

Brian and Elsa nodded in union.

Lucy felt slightly less aggrieved. The rest of her pain would go away when she could see her family together again. But for now—for the second time, she realized—her son, and her husband were out there, and she was truly alone.

* * *

J.D. watched the full descent of the helicopter with this mother and Aaron, dust and other assorted, lightweight objects still wavered in the air as the blades slowed. A limp, still conscious young woman in a makeshift stretcher that could only be Laura came out of the copter with a few very official-looking government workers, and Brian and Elsa.

The half-reunited library gang acknowledged each other's presences and silently followed Laura and the officials to the hospital wing, until they reached what was the improvised ICU, where the doctors wouldn't allow them to go any further.

The three were still silent as they watched hopelessly from a window, and Elsa noted something being uttered from Laura's lips.

"Sam…" she mouthed.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the short chapter guys, but I promise a longer one next time!

**Next Chapter: **The beginnings of a Brian/Elsa 'ship (YES!!!); Laura's condition worsens as Michelle and Tobias arrive; Jack and Sam arrive at the US Embassy… and, of course, I can't tell you _everything_!

**P.S.: **Hey, guys, if this were a real sequel to _The Day After Tomorrow_, who would you cast as my OC's?


	9. The End Of An Era

**Author's Note: **I know, I know. I haven't updated in forever. But I hope this one's worth it; it's longer, and it has the best quote. Ever. :)

* * *

**No Words Here**

**Chapter Nine: The End Of An Era**

_"I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something."_

_—Samwise Gamgee, 'Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers_

* * *

"Jack! Sam!" Lucy shouted, fighting back hyperventilation and tears of joy as her eyes found the truck trudging on through the wastelands. Snowflakes twirled in the light breeze, falling on the fires all around and allowing more smoke to rise as Lucy dashed to the automobile. She grabbed Jack and Sam, trying not to her hurt her only child, and pulled them into a tight squeeze, similar to the one she gave when she first saw them get off the helicopter a few weeks ago. "Oh my God… I thought you two were dead…" The trio seemed to share the same reaction, not letting go for a while.

"Is everyone okay? Where are they?" Sam asked, reluctantly pulling away from his parents.

"J.D., Elsa, Michelle, and Laura are up in Texas. They're sending some more helicopters so that we can get everybody up there, too." Lucy answered breathlessly.

Sam's voice became more earnest as he spoke the next few words. "I need to get up there… Laura's really hurt and—"

"Don't worry, Sam, the helicopter's coming… she'll be alright."

Laura gasped for short breaths of air, her eyes searching desperately for absolutely nothing from behind their lids. She was strapped to her bed, for the consistent spasms that shuddered violently through her body could further damage her frail condition if she was to impact something. The concussion in her cranium was enormous, as was her badly fractured spinal cord, and the various bruises, slashes, and smashed bones. The doctors at the military facility had theorized that she had been struck with a girder or some other large object emitting from the blast.

Doctor Cassandra Thurman sighed as she surveyed Laura struggle and squirm in her bed. Her associate, Doctor Jackie Minora, came loping into the room. "The girl's mother is here, should I send her in?" Jackie inquired through panting.

Cassandra released another elongated sigh. "Yes. Tell them."

Meanwhile, Elsa, J.D., and Brian were gathered in what served as a waiting room. The trio simultaneously rose from their seats as Michelle, red-eyed and completely absorbed in her tears and sorrow, entered the area. Elsa wrapped her arms around Laura's mother, and Michelle accepted the bug, burying her face into the teen's shoulder. The woman pulled away aversely after a few seconds. "She's going to be alright, isn't she?"

Elsa fingered her stitched forehead as she frowned a bit. "They don't know. She's got a lot of broken bones… and she's lost a lot of blood… and she's got a major concussion, but that's all they're telling us. We can't even go to see her."

Brian tried to avoid eye contact with Michelle. He'd known this poor, strong woman for a while now, and he despised seeing her so sad after the many things she didn't deserve occurring all at once. J.D. collectively comforted Michelle, whispering promises of hope.

Jackie Minora crossed the threshold into the room. As a medical doctor fresh out of school, she had yet to come to terms with telling patients' families what she was about to say.

"Miss Chapman?"

Michelle sniffled. "It's Vreeland now… but yes?"

"Miss Vreeland, a word w-with you?" Jackie requested anxiously. The two ventured into a nearby hallway, and Michelle's blood pounded into her ears.

"Yes?"

"Your daughter… she n-needs to be induced into a coma. She has b-brain damage," Jackie gulped. "That could turn severe… and cause something more permanent. And… she's got a fractured spine, along with sev-several other ruptured bones, and we need to operate… but we aren't s-sure if…"

"If what?" Michelle interjected tearfully.

"If she's strong enough for the surgical procedure." Jackie's eyes fell downcast. "That—" she cut herself off. "We think there's a sixty percent chance of survival if her body can take the operation… and… a t-ten percent chance… if she can't get the operations. Either way, if she does live, it's likely that she'll have temporary paralysis for a few years, below her waist…"

Michelle couldn't handle this. It was just too much. "Are you implying that after all that's happened, all I've been through, that I'm going to lose another daughter!" she shouted, her cries in hysterics as she fell to the floor, still sobbing.

Elsa fell back into her chair, hearing Laura's mother's cries.

_Sam, where the hell are you?_

* * *

"Where the hell is that helicopter?" Sam mumbled irritably, finding himself pacing on the same landing pad that he leaped onto when he first arrived. Lucy glanced at Jack, looking for some sort of inspiration in his eyes for what to advise to their son.

"Sam, be patient," Lucy put a hand on her teenager's shoulder, almost adding, It isn't like we're never going to see her again.

And the slight patience coursing through Sam's system paid off. Not even thirty seconds had passed when the buzz of the helicopter's blades sounded through the air, but all Sam could hear was the hallelujah chorus. It hovered above their heads for a few moments, whistling the air into rippling gusts before landing in close proximity.

The trip seemed like forever times ten thousand. It was the most elongated, most anxious time in his entire life. They group was only in transit for two hours, but time appeared to stand still.

When they arrived at the military facility, Sam dashed to the building faster than he could ever recall running. Faster than track tryouts, faster than the championship soccer game when he was six. His wounds may have been cleaned, but his broken arm wasn't helping matters at all. He didn't even really know where he was going, although surprisingly he was going the right way. Sam had burst into a pair of swinging doors, sanitized for optimum protection, stumbling into the waiting room, and its surprised occupants.

The group, consisting of the younger portion of the library gang and Michelle, looked as if Sam were a ghost. A silence accumulated in the room, only to be slightly tainted by Sam's weak pants for breath. "Where… is… she?" They all knew which she he was speaking of, but no one brave enough answered his question. Michelle shot a look as he accumulated frustration. "I said… where… is she?"

"You want to know where she is?" Michelle rephrased thickly. "I'll show you." She slapped Sam across the face. "She's going to die because of you!" she repeated the smack several times, saying, "If you hadn't taken her—" **SMACK**. "Out there—" **SMACK**. "She'd be—" **SMACK**. "Fine!"

He simply took the hits, tears pricking his eyes and pain pricking his face.

Lucy and Jack burst into the room a few seconds later, as Sam and Michelle neared another pair of doors on the opposite side of the room, where Jackie stood.

"I'm sorry, Miss Vreeland. I can't let him in. He isn't intermediate family, is he?" Jackie questioned, eyeing Sam briefly.

"I'm her fiancé," Sam answered breathlessly, realizing that the whole room had heard his words.

"_Fiancé_?" Jack repeated skeptically.

"I'll explain later," he answered quickly, as an equally surprised Michelle swept off into the next corridor.

"Fianc" Jack said once more, seating himself. "He's only… _eighteen_." He completed the sentence with uncertainty. "Wasn't it his birthday yesterday?"

"Yes," Lucy answered, with a surprised tone. She was astonished that Jack would remember, especially considering the recent circumstances. "He's eighteen, so legally, he can make his own decisions, Jack." she clarified. "But I still don't know why he'd propose…"

"Me either." Jack paused for a while, and silence accumulated in the room again.

"Er… I uh… have to go the bathroom." Elsa announced.

"Yeah. Me too." J.D. added.

Brian was a little late with his addition, so J.D. nudged him a little. "Oh, uh. Yeah."

The trio exited, and Lucy raised a scarred eyebrow. "What was that about?"

"I have no clue."

* * *

Sam heart felt like to was about to burst out of his chest from the heavy beats it had been pounding within his body. He searched every room they passed, wishing each one was Laura's, but they either contained no one, or someone else who just wasn't Laura.

It was when he had grown tired of searching when the two had halted at the room near the end of the hall, Dr. Thurman stopping Michelle.

"Oh, Miss Chapman—Vreeland," she corrected herself. "We've got good news?"

Michelle's eyes seemed to glitter at this. "Is she operable?"

"Yes."

"Operable?" Sam didn't understand.

"Oh, are you her brother?"

"Yeah." He didn't want to waste time explaining himself.

"She needs to be operated on, but we're inducing her into a coma, because she is having pretty vigorous spasms." Cassandra summarized.

"I need to go in there—"

"Not yet." Dr. Thurman warned. "After the operations. She's going to be alright."

But somehow, those words and a sixty percent chance attached of survival wasn't enough for Michelle.

* * *

"How are we supposed to do something like this?"

J.D. and Brian lifted their heads warily from staring at their footsteps as they wandered the halls.

"What?" Brian mumbled, meeting Elsa's saddened gaze.

"This is just so fucked up," Elsa began. "How do we deal with sort of thing? I mean, as if the world wasn't messed up enough already; there was people killing each other out of pure, meaningless hatred, there were people without homes, without families, starving to death out in countries that barely have anything. And now this? You guys, I don't have a mother anymore… Laura doesn't have her sister… so many people have lost everything, but everyone has lost someone…

"And here we are, waiting for Laura to be alright. For Sam to have his honeybuns," she smiled a little at those words. "For the world to return to the way it should be, to wake up from this freaking nightmare. But I can't just stand here and watch this just pass us by. I want to do something about this," Elsa had tears in her eyes. "I want to have something I can control for once in my life."

Brian did something very bold for once; he patted her back, comforting her. "But we can't. And there's nothing to do… but maybe…

"Maybe there's hope."

* * *

**Next Chapter:** The happy ending! YAY!


	10. Epilogue: The Stuff Of Great Romance

**Disclaimer:** Okay, I own; Tessa, Gwen, Brennan, Michelle (well, I own her name, so there), and anyone else you don't recognize.

* * *

**No Words Here**

**Epilogue: The Stuff Of Great Romance**

_"The worst is over now_

_And we can breathe again..."_

_--Amy Lee_

* * *

A great shadow had passed over the lives of those who had survived the merciless grip of the massive, vigorous tempests, and had lived in the refugee encampments. Countless people had departed this life when the International Space Station impacted the already scarred earth. Scores more had received injuries that changed their lives forever. Laura Chapman was among them.

She had survived where many others would have expired. She was strong-willed, even in unconsciousness, and had survived the operations and her coma, which lasted two weeks. But now, she was faced with an even greater challenge than the superstorms, or even the impact. Today, she would be wed.

The future Mrs. Sam Hall examined herself in a full-length mirror, studying every feature for possible blemishes or flaws. She found none, but anxiety was in her voice as she asked her Maid of Honor, "Have I become the bitter cripple?"

Elsa raised a perfectly structured eyebrow, aside from the fact that a scar from several months previous ran straight through it. Her rich, chestnut hair was pulled back in a loose, low but peculiarly radiant ponytail, and a lovely burgundy gown encased her torso and gracefully blossomed out down her uncurvaceous legs. She was beautiful, but could hardly rival her best friend.

"_Laura_," Elsa sounded, instead of sardonic or sarcastic, sincerely shocked. "No!"

"I can't do this."

Elsa eyed her best friend oddly. "What did you say, Laura?" She had heard perfectly well what Laura had said, but she insisted on hearing it, out of skepticism.

"I said I can't do this." Laura chastised, spinning around. _Whoosh._

"Laura!" Elsa said deafeningly, gently gripping Laura's slim shoulders. "You can do this. You are _going_ to do this."

"Elsa, most girls walk down the aisle. I'm going to get wheeled down the aisle." She protested. Despite her claims, it would make no difference to her simplistic beauty. Her extensive light brown locks tumbled down her back in a low ponytail tied with a cream-colored bow. She wore a simple gown that was astonishingly beautiful against her slender frame. There was no lace décor or fancy embroideries to form it into something utterly picturesque; it was a plain and simple cream dress.

"It doesn't matter, Laura, you've been through so much more than this," Elsa persisted, putting the finishing touches on herself. "And it's going to be fun, I promise."

J.D. entered the bride's dressing room without warning, his mouth becoming agape as his eyes fell on Laura. "Oh my God…" he murmured, his eyes never looking away from her. "Th-they're ready." J.D. announced, finally looking at Elsa. She nodded, ambling out of the room, her pace quickening.

"You ready for the long walk, Daddy?" Laura grinned.

"I'm ninety-nine percent nervous, one percent ready. But that'll have to do." He paused for a few moments. "At least you don't have to worry about tripping."

Laura laughed a bit. "I suppose not."

* * *

The wedding was to be held in a church, one that had stood in Texas for one hundred years, surviving hurricanes and the superstorms and everything else that wandered upon it. It was an enormous chapel, holding many, many people, even those that didn't even know who Laura and Sam were. It was a cause for celebration, and those were few and far between, so a vast amount of people attended to see the Laura Chapman become Laura Hall.

The parade of assorted people had marched down the aisle, and were currently assembled in front of the cathedral, Sam Hall the most nervous of the lot as he stared at the wooden double doors across the room. A slight creak announced their opening, and the crowd of people noticed and collectively stood.

Sam thought he was going to faint.

She was so beautiful; as incredibly gorgeous as the first time Sam's bright blue eyes had first laid upon her, if not more so. J.D., since her father would not attend, pushed the wheelchair where she was seated down the passageway. She smiled at her mother and Sam's parents, along with Brian and Elsa. This wasn't so bad after all.

They stopped at the front of the church, sitting before Sam. The two just stared each other with wanting, prying eyes for a few moments before the congregation seated and the priest began to speak:

"We gather here today to witness the wedded bliss of Samuel Thomas Hall and Laura Brooke Chapman…" he began, but Sam really wasn't paying attention. He just stared at his future wife with sparkling eyes that refused to look upon anything else other than her. By the time he'd fallen out of her wonderful chocolate brown eyes, the reverend had begun the exchange of vows.

Sam glanced at the priest as the wrinkled, elderly man asked, "Do you, Samuel Hall, take Laura Chapman to have and to hold, to honor her, richer or poorer, sickness and in health, 'til death do you part?"

_'Til death to you part_… those words really struck a cord with both Sam and Laura, both having their thoughts to Tessa for a second, a silent eulogy within their mind.

"I do." Sam's voice wasn't shaky or hoarse or unconfident as he said this, but all of the opposites.

"Do you, Laura Chapman, take Samuel Hall, to have and to hold, to honor her, richer or poorer, sickness and in health, 'til death do you part?"

"I do." Laura repeated Sam's confidence.

"You may kiss the bride," the priest bid Sam with a smirk.

And Sam was about to bend over, when suddenly; Laura attempted to steady herself on the wheelchair, balancing herself carefully. And he smiled with immense joy, giving her a strong, passion kiss as the audience exploded into applause. He didn't say anything or give any words to her. They weren't needed.

**The End**

* * *

**Author's Note:** Ah, we've come to it at last. The end point. But don't worry, I have many DAT fics that will be potentially used. Thanks for all the reviews, encouragement, and the wonderful reviewers (epecially SparkingDiamond and Clintronic Waldrop, both excellent writers and loyal reviewers) who made this fic possible! See you at the next DAT fic!


End file.
